


inside, this place is warm

by enisle



Series: these hearts adore [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, First Kiss, Fluff, High School, Introspection, Lots of it, M/M, Making Out, Overthinking, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:28:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28323852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enisle/pseuds/enisle
Summary: Butstill. Texting Iwaizumi to come over shouldn't be terrifying—none of the things he's been doing with Iwaizumi for the past two weeks should be terrifying. And yet here he is, so overwhelmed with the knowledge that while he and Iwaizumi have always done everything together, there were superlatives they never dared to acknowledge, and being together in every sense of the word entailed aneverythingthat was much more vast, much more limitless.Oikawa is still trying to deal with the intricacies that come with dating your best friend.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Series: these hearts adore [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2107089
Comments: 68
Kudos: 826
Collections: kagsivity's fic archive





	inside, this place is warm

**Author's Note:**

> alternatively titled: the awkward just-got-together iwaoi fic of my dreams.

Right now, there are three important things occupying Oikawa’s mind: first, winters are excruciatingly chilly; second, he is bored out of his mind; and third—

He tries not to think about it.

The volleyball he has been tossing mindlessly now sits by the corner of his room, forgotten, as he lies on his _futon_ feeling just a little bit restless and far too cold. There has always been something about winters that made him agitated; the picture it creates makes him feel out of place—unbefitting to enjoy the calm when he is itching to move and run and serve a ball in an empty court until his wrists are sore. The deep blue of the sky and the hush that blankets Sendai in the early hours of the evening should be comforting him.

It fails.

The obvious solution to his boredom was to call Iwaizumi and talk his ear off, maybe coerce him into trudging through the snow just to hang out in Oikawa’s bedroom. Having someone to bother would definitely help his case especially since he was all alone, so asking Iwaizumi to come over is his best possible option. And he would have—he definitely would have, he knows Iwaizumi wouldn’t actually mind—if not for one pressing fact that Oikawa is still trying to grasp:

He is dating Iwaizumi Hajime.

To reiterate, there are three important things occupying Oikawa’s mind: first, winters are excruciatingly chilly; second, he is bored out of his mind; and third, he is _dating Iwaizumi Hajime_.

The news may have been unsurprising to the few friends (see: Makki and Mattsun) who caught wind of this recent development, but it still baffles Oikawa every time he is reminded of it. It has been two weeks since Oikawa offhandedly mentioned the security he craves in a relationship to Iwaizumi, two weeks since Iwaizumi wrapped his scarf around Oikawa’s neck on their way home, and two weeks since Iwaizumi told Oikawa to date him instead in his irritatingly deadpan voice.

He tripped on his feet when the statement dawned on him then, but Iwaizumi caught him anyway, and that was that.

So, there lies his predicament. He wants to send Iwaizumi a text, ask him to drop by in the same way he’s done for the past several years. Except he couldn’t bring himself to do it, not when he hasn’t been properly and privately alone with Iwaizumi since they got together.

In his hand is his phone and a myriad of drafts, backspaced ‘ _are you free’_ s and _‘can u stay over_ ’s he is too afraid to send. And Oikawa wants to smack himself for it.

He knows this wasn't supposed to be so needlessly difficult. Being with his ex-girlfriends had not been as complicated, and none of his previous romantic conquests had managed to reduce him into a flustered mess. The only consolation Oikawa takes comfort in is the fact that there is a fundamental difference between going out with girls who give him bento boxes during lunch breaks and dating your best friend you've been hopelessly in love with for nearly a decade.

But _still_. Texting Iwaizumi to come over shouldn't be terrifying— _none_ of the things he's been doing with Iwaizumi for the past two weeks should be terrifying. And yet here he is, so overwhelmed with the knowledge that while he and Iwaizumi have always done everything together, there were superlatives they never dared to acknowledge, and being together in every sense of the word entailed an _everything_ that was much more vast, much more limitless.

So, yes. Texting Iwaizumi to come over shouldn't be scary in the slightest, and maybe that isn't what scares Oikawa at all. Perhaps what keeps him on his toes is simply the fact that asking Iwaizumi to come over used to mean just that, the hanging question of 'to do what?' absent.

Insinuations and subtext were never at the forefront of his mind when it came to Iwaizumi, but that was when being alone with Iwaizumi did not suggest anything else.

He was about to lapse into another inner monologue about the woes of not knowing how to act when you’re in a budding relationship with someone you’ve been platonic with for as long as you could remember when the phone he is gripping tightly chimes once, twice.

_Iwa-chan_ ♡

[19:44] are we watching those holiday movies you like to binge every year

[19:44] im surprised u havent blackmailed me yet to watch it w u lol

Well. That solves his dilemma.

“How does he make it look so easy,” Oikawa whines in frustration, burying his face in his pillow as he decides on what to reply to his seemingly collected _boyfriend_. The title never fails to summon a swarm of butterflies to his stomach, but the nonchalance Iwaizumi exudes only amplifies that feeling.

[19:49] i knew iwa-chan secretly liked watching them with me (≧◡≦)

_Iwa-chan_ ♡

[19:50] shut up

[19:50] do u want me to come over or not

The question feels like a blow, Iwaizumi’s bluntness still something for Oikawa to get used to now that he had to deal with it in the context of something other than volleyball and his idiosyncrasies. Their two-week-old relationship has Oikawa learning early on that Iwaizumi could not care less about pretense (despite the fact that he did dance around his feelings for several years before he decided to confess) and adjusting to it is proving to be very challenging for him.

[19:53] (¬‿¬ ) how forward iwa-chan!!!

_Iwa-chan_ ♡

[19:53] thats a no then

Oikawa waits for a follow-up to that dismissal, but when ‘Online’ turns into ‘Last seen at 18:34,’ he huffs. Iwaizumi is evidently playing a game with him—one that he’s lost the moment Iwaizumi sent that last message because he always, _always_ knows what Oikawa actually means when he tries to pull up a front. He probably deserves it; he should have already agreed when Iwaizumi asked considering he was the one who had the initiative anyway, but he just had to play coy.

Sighing, he decides to be honest instead.

[20:01] iwa-chan (ノ_<。)

[20:01] i rly want u to come over (｡╯︵╰｡)

_Iwa-chan_ ♡

[20:03] be there in 10 to 15

That message jolts him out of his _futon_ when he realizes that he hasn’t showered all day. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t have to drag himself to the bathroom for a movie night with Iwaizumi considering they’ve both seen each other covered in snot and drool over the years, but this was _not_ a normal circumstance. He was a child when he allowed himself to be seen by Iwaizumi in a disgusting state, but he’d rather be caught being friendly with _Ushiwaka_ than reek in the presence of his boyfriend, so he begrudgingly takes a bath in record speed.

Iwaizumi is not one to be tardy, so Oikawa tries to quickly towel-dry his hair the moment he gets back to his room before slipping into a pair of decent-looking sweatpants and a hoodie he may have stolen from Iwaizumi himself. Then, he sprays on a bit of cologne, not too much that Iwaizumi would think he’s trying too hard, but enough that Iwaizumi would catch a whiff of it _if_ he sits too close.

He only gets a few minutes to mull over how ridiculous he is being when he hears the echo of a loud knock.

Oikawa gives himself an extra second to sneak a glance to his mirror, another extra second to card his fingers through his damp hair, and another extra second to exhale before padding to their front door. Then, without mulling over the fact that this is actually the first time Iwaizumi is coming over as his _boyfriend_ , he twists the knob.

There are a thousand things Oikawa wants to say the moment he sees Iwaizumi all bundled up in front of him with the pink of his nose barely visible under his cobalt scarf. He also _kind of_ wants to lean forward and place a soft kiss on the peaks of Iwaizumi’s cheeks, but he hesitates. He isn’t sure if that’s expected of him yet—he isn’t sure about a lot of things regarding their relationship if he were to be honest—so he settles with a breathy greeting instead:

“Hi.”

Iwaizumi clearly catches the funny look on his face judging by how he raises his eyebrow at Oikawa, but he doesn’t dwell on it to redirect his attention to the bags he was carrying—bags Oikawa did not actually notice.

“I brought chips,” Iwaizumi replies in lieu of a hello. Oikawa tilts his head in a silent question to which Iwaizumi sighs, “And milk bread, of course.”

Grinning, Oikawa opens the door wider theatrically to let Iwaizumi in. The older boy rolls his eyes at this gesture, but Oikawa knows unmasked fondness when he sees it. He might have missed many signs during the years they needlessly pined over each other, but now that Iwaizumi knew there was no need to hide the weight of his affection, Oikawa had started to find it easier to notice all the ways Iwaizumi expresses his feelings. Like bringing him milk bread when he didn’t ask. Or looking at him with overflowing adoration instead of faking annoyance.

The thought curves his lips into a smile, and it leaves him giddy that even after Iwaizumi moved to walk past him and toe his shoes off, the smile is still fixed on his face. Iwaizumi looks at him oddly for it, but Oikawa only shrugs in response, not necessarily willing to let the other boy know that his acts of unintentional sweetness make his heart race a little faster. Iwaizumi’s gentleness had once been a rarity, but entering a relationship entailed significant changes in the way they acted around each other, and that included Iwaizumi trading his stoic façade with warmth reserved solely for Oikawa.

Needless to say, Oikawa likes this development.

He thinks that’s the end of it and proceeds to step away from the door until Iwaizumi reaches for his hand to lace their fingers together, disrupting the beat inside his chest. It stutters almost into a pause before it resumes its frantic pace when Oikawa sees Iwaizumi’s averted eyes, and he would have made a quip about Iwaizumi’s uncharacteristic shyness if he weren’t blinking in shock himself. Clearly, the novelty of holding hands has yet to be lost, but neither of them make a comment on it.

It was no secret that they were being awkward. Such is the only explanation for the silence that accompanies them as they shuffle around with their hands in each other’s tight grip, so Oikawa chooses to use the time it takes to walk from the _genkan_ to the living room to calm his racing heart and will his cheeks to lose their color. Briefly, he also thinks about the way Iwaizumi is holding his hand; he used to replay the rare moments his best friend squeezed his hand supportively during the years he longed for something more. Such occurrences were not romantic in any context, and back then, all he could do was dream. Now, here he is, his palm against Iwaizumi’s, his fingers interlocked with his.

It shouldn’t be surprising to think that Iwaizumi was capable of being delicate; it was only slightly unnerving to dwell on the fact that the same hand that could spike a ball through a three-man block was now holding Oikawa’s hand affectionately.

“Where are your parents?”

Lost in his thoughts, Oikawa doesn’t immediately register the question Iwaizumi asks him until they reach the couch.

“They went to visit _obaasan_ yesterday and said they’d be back late tomorrow. Was planning to go with them but I was finalizing things with coach.”

(A white lie; he really did have things to talk about with Coach Irihata regarding his captaincy come third year, but it was mostly an excuse to stay behind and have a chance to be alone with Iwaizumi. No one had to know that though.)

Iwaizumi only hums in response, but Oikawa is aware that he understands the ‘we’re alone for the night’ that remains unspoken.

Regretfully, Oikawa pulls his hand from Iwaizumi’s grasp and leaves him to look for his collection of Christmas movies in his bedroom. He spots the dusty box immediately, but before he could slide his door closed, he spots the tiny can of mints on his desk. Now, Oikawa wasn’t one to presume things, and he wasn’t the type to hope for things that could only leave him disappointed either, but it wouldn’t hurt to pop a single mint into his mouth, would it?

Just as he considers this thought, his mind traitorously conjures an image of him lying on his back with Iwaizumi on top of him, lips sliding against each other and hands eagerly wandering. He feels his cheeks burn as a result and it leaves him mildly annoyed; it’s comical how he is able to smile his way through multiple confessions a day, and yet that the mere thought of kissing Iwaizumi could turn him into a lovesick mess.

Sighing, he takes one tiny mint in his hand and lets it sit on his tongue before leaving his room. He returns to Iwaizumi who is now lounging on the couch with his arm propped on the back pillows, and it takes him a few seconds to notice that Iwaizumi was eyeing him a little too intently.

“Is that my hoodie?”

He instinctively looks down to check what he’s wearing despite knowing that he intentionally wore Iwaizumi’s hoodie to get a rise out of him.

“You won’t make me return it, Iwa-chan,” he says with finality. Smirking, he also adds, “I need a boyfriend hoodie of my own.”

A surprised laugh escapes Iwaizumi and Oikawa could almost see the splatter of pink that is surely there on his face, but Iwaizumi was not one to back down.

“I wasn’t going to ask for it back,” he says as his eyes follow the slope of Oikawa’s shoulders and the length of his arm. “It looks cute on you anyway.”

To hide how red his face has become, Oikawa turns away to turn their television on and insert the DVD of his subtitled copy of _Home Alone_ to the player. He chooses to ignore the snicker he hears from Iwaizumi while he’s at it in favor of pulling himself together; he’s used to teasing Iwaizumi and being smacked in return, but he has yet to get used to Iwaizumi flirting _back_. He has amassed quite a remarkable collection of _Iwaizumi_ -stamped documents in his head, all dedicated to his quirks and mannerisms, his interests and dislikes, his victorious feats and humiliating pitfalls. A decade of friendship (and counting) makes that possible, but he now knows that there are sides of Iwaizumi he has yet to be familiar with, sides he only met recently and sides he has not uncovered.

 _But that’s okay_ , Oikawa thinks wistfully as the player reads the disk. _There will be a lot of time for that._

Once the movie starts playing, he switches the lights off and takes his seat beside Iwaizumi who moves to drape his arm around Oikawa’s shoulders. He is slowly being acquainted with the weight of Iwaizumi’s arm around him for the past few weeks, but it still makes his heart skip a beat. The action also makes him just a tad bit terrified; the assurance that Iwaizumi also wants to be close to him—to hold him—is as elating as it is frightening. He waited for years for a chance to be with Iwaizumi, but he now knows that the wait had failed to prepare him still.

But he doesn’t think it’s a bad thing. He knows that mastering something takes time; it’s a sentiment he’s been forced to comprehend at such a young age. The ease of tossing a ball in a parabolic arc for a waiting spiker had not always been easy. Understanding what Iwaizumi is feeling just by the inflection of his voice took him years. So he allows himself to acknowledge the uncertainty of not knowing how to react around this new Iwaizumi—this sappy, tender version of his best friend—and he allows himself to be overwhelmed, even if just a little, with the things they will both have to relearn about each other.

Oikawa tries to bring his focus back to the movie playing in front of them, but in all honesty, he wasn’t interested. He’s re-watched _Home Alone_ multiple times thanks to this tradition of theirs which started when they were much, much younger. He distinctly remembers begging his _okaasan_ to let him ‘make snow angels with Hajime-chan’ despite the light snow storm outside, and in a desperate attempt to appease him, Iwaizumi was invited to come over for movies instead. It then became a yearly routine for the both of them to re-watch Oikawa’s choices and binge new films that have been added to his list.

Right now, though? He had more important things in mind—things that involved the boy sitting next to him.

But it was a little unfair. It seems that Iwaizumi is actually concentrating on the movie even though he’s always acted like he only agrees to Oikawa’s invitations begrudgingly, and Oikawa is left with no choice but to continue watching as well.

Halfway through, the cold starts to get to Oikawa and he starts to regret not hoarding the blankets from his room. He’d abandon his position on the couch to do just that if it weren’t for the fact that he was already too comfortable to be bothered to stand, so he goes for his next best source of warmth; he snuggles closer to Iwaizumi.

Focusing on the movie proves to be difficult, however, when Iwaizumi’s arm slides down from his shoulders to wrap around his waist, fingers lazily tracing circles on the hoodie Oikawa was wearing. He tilts his head upwards to sneak a look at Iwaizumi’s face, but his expression reveals nothing. His eyes are glued to the screen and his breathing is steady while the heart inside Oikawa threatens to burst out of him.

Warmth envelops him as he continues to stare at Iwaizumi’s profile, the lights that flicker across his face only making him look softer. He wants to reach out and trace the slope of Iwaizumi’s nose with his fingertips, maybe press a fleeting kiss onto his jaw, but he restrains himself. He’s come to know that being allowed to _look_ at Iwaizumi is almost as rewarding as it is to actually touch, and in this moment, Oikawa only wants to keep these seconds to himself, watching.

The fingers on his waist continue to draw patterns aimlessly and Oikawa is suddenly ambushed by the sheer _want_ to stay like this, to have this memory not only for him to remember but also to relive, to have something they can always come back to even when they’re both chasing dreams bigger than themselves.

“Iwa-chan?”

Iwaizumi gives him a noncommittal hum as a reply, so he fists the front of Iwaizumi’s sweater, voice a little more insistent when he repeats, “Iwa-chan?”

Oikawa is met with silence this time around, and at this point, he isn’t sure if Iwaizumi is deliberately ignoring him to focus on the movie or if he’s making fun of him. Dissatisfied with the lack of reply, he tugs Iwaizumi’s sweater and whines.

“Iwa- _chaaan_.”

“What, Oikawa?” Iwaizumi groans, eyes still looking forward. “We’re supposed to be watching, pester me later.”

After a few seconds of not hearing anything from Oikawa, Iwaizumi turns to look down at his boyfriend who happened to be curled by his side. Oikawa stares at him quietly, and Iwaizumi must have seen the adoration brewing behind Oikawa’s eyes because the faux annoyance disappears from his face to be replaced by a tenderness Oikawa is still trying to get used to.

“Is there anything wrong?”

Oikawa shakes his head, not wanting to worry Iwaizumi when all he wanted was to steal his attention for a while. “Nothing! Just… can we stay like this? For a while?”

Surprised by Oikawa’s request, a small smile makes its way to Iwaizumi’s lips in amusement. Permission was not necessary considering their long history of friendship—Oikawa knows this; they are no longer strangers to cuddling after all. They have spent far too many nights like this in the past that he’s already carved a space for him by Iwaizumi’s side, the contours of their body now fitting together like puzzle pieces.

However, they are still coming to terms with the fact that things are much different when romantic intentions are involved.

Iwaizumi scoots backwards, adjusting their position just so Oikawa’s head could be pillowed by his chest. His hand stays above Oikawa’s hip, fingers occupying the creases of the hoodie Oikawa has stolen from him. Then, he resumes watching the movie in front of them without a word.

Disappointed, Oikawa pouts at him though he knows Iwaizumi could not see his face. This was not what he meant when he said he wanted to _stay like this_ , so he breaks the silence again.

“Lately… I was thinking about how weird this is, Iwa-chan.”

This immediately catches Iwaizumi’s attention.

“How so?”

Remote in hand, Iwaizumi pauses the movie before focusing his gaze on him. In the darkness of the room and the abrupt silence, Oikawa entertains the idea of forgetting what we wanted to say, but Iwaizumi’s eyes are too compelling to ignore.

So he doesn’t.

“I mean, isn’t it a little… unnerving? We’re, er, _dating_ now, and that means a lot of things, doesn’t it?”

Iwaizumi cocks his head to the side, confusion evident on his features.

“We’ll have to do _everything_ now, Iwa-chan.”

“Well, we don’t have to do anything unless you’re rea—”

“No! That’s the thing!” Oikawa amends before Iwaizumi could conclude anything from his earlier statements. “I-I want to. I want to do everything with you.”

Belatedly, his cheeks burn at the realization that his statement could mean something else. “Uhm, not right now, of course! I’m just putting it out there. That, yeah. I wouldn’t mind doing… _things_ with you. Unless you don’t want to.” He finishes off lamely, eyes averting in embarrassment.

(It is almost comedic, how he is articulate with his gratitude when accepting chocolates from admirers and how he is eloquent with his regret when he breaks things off. The words he used to string together with ease are now words he stumble on—all because of a boy with rough edges and gentle hands.)

Iwaizumi regards him with a silent gaze for a few beats before a small grin finds its way to his face. “In that case, is this okay?”

 _This_ being the tightening of the arm previously wrapped loosely around his waist. _This_ being the subtle pull towards Iwaizumi’s chest so they could be pressed against each other, hair’s breadth apart.

“Yeah,” Oikawa says with a laugh. “This is okay.”

Emboldened, Oikawa makes his move by looping his arms around Iwaizumi’s waist. The action elicits a chuckle from Iwaizumi, not shocked in the slightest that Oikawa would not let him have the last word. “How about this? Is this okay, Iwa-chan?”

“S’okay, ‘Kawa.”

They stay in that position for a while until Oikawa tilts his head to do the one thing he’s been hesitant about ever since Iwaizumi arrived on their doorstep: he pecks Iwaizumi’s cheek.

“And that—was that okay?”

He risks a look at Iwaizumi’s eyes and is taken aback by the intensity of his gaze.

“Yeah,” the sudden drop in his voice sends a shiver down his spine. “Very much okay.”

Oikawa is not dense enough to not recognize the shift in the air, and just like that, all pretense of trying to watch the movie is abandoned. The paused screen becomes forgotten as he places a hand on Iwaizumi’s chest—right on top of where his heart should be—and he is taken aback by how fast Iwaizumi’s heart is actually beating. All throughout the night, he appeared nonchalant and collected to Oikawa, so the discovery that Iwaizumi is just as nervous as he is comforts him more than it probably should.

The same fingers that have been teasing since the beginning of the night find themselves underneath the layer that separated them, searching for skin. It makes him gulp, the sensation of blunt nails against his back making warmth pool in his gut.

“This still okay?”

“Yes,” Oikawa sighs, voice significantly breathier now. “ _Yes._ ”

His hands then start to wander under Iwaizumi’s sweater, devoting time to acquainting himself with the ridges of Iwaizumi’s stomach, hard muscles sculpted by years of dedicating himself to volleyball and his meticulous workout routine. For the longest time, Oikawa has only caught glimpses of it in locker rooms, in communal showers, in the brief seconds when Iwaizumi changes out of his uniform in his bedroom with Oikawa around. Before, the curious, pubescent boy in him longed to know how the warmth of his skin would feel against his fingertips.

Right now, the curious pubescent boy in him is satisfied and unsated all the same.

A shaky exhale leaves Iwaizumi, bringing Oikawa’s eyes back to him, and the sight would have made his knees buckle if he weren’t tucked by Iwaizumi’s side.

Iwaizumi, half-lidded, looking at him with barely-repressed desire. Iwaizumi, lips curved dangerously, smirking at him before he leans down.

His heart almost stops when Iwaizumi brings his face close to him, startled by their proximity and wholly unprepared for the kiss Iwaizumi almost gives him. It almost feels like cheating, how Iwaizumi is dangling a kiss in front of him like a treat for an eager child, only to back away when Oikawa leans forward.

Then Iwaizumi raises his eyebrow at him, eyes searching and gentler than they were seconds ago. Oikawa understands the question almost immediately and it fills him with so much adoration it almost hurts.

 _God_ , he thinks as he nods shakily. _I fucking love him._

Iwaizumi leans down once more, and this time Oikawa is ready. He closes his eyes just as their noses touch, and he waits for their lips to _finally_ touch.

Except it doesn’t happen.

He feels the ghost of a kiss right on the corner of his mouth, and his eyes snap open only to see Iwaizumi grinning sheepishly at him.

For a moment, he thinks about how this is the most intimate they have been up to date, and he tries to rationalize that it is perfectly normal for Iwaizumi to step on the brakes. But he doesn’t dwell on this train of thought for too long because Iwaizumi promptly interrupts him.

“Was that okay?”

“You _,_ ” Oikawa grumbles in response as he abruptly sits up, “are such a _tease_.” Iwaizumi’s eyes widen by a fraction, unsure about what Oikawa is trying to do until Oikawa straddles his thighs, knees bracketing his hips to keep himself up. “Of course that was okay, Iwa-chan!”

Iwaizumi chuckles, obviously amused at how eager his boyfriend has become, but he makes no move to push Oikawa away. Instead, his hands find their way to the sides of Oikawa’s waist before he pulls him down so that Oikawa is fully sitting on his lap. The contact makes their breaths hitch, so in a feeble attempt to prevent things from escalating _too_ quickly, Oikawa tries his best to keep still.

But it seems that Iwaizumi wants to start moving things along despite his earlier stunt if the kisses he is peppering from Oikawa’s jaw to his neck are anything to go by.

“This okay?”

Iwaizumi hums this question against his neck and the syllables make Oikawa shake—he is certain that it was not because of the cold. Instead of an answer, he tilts his head to the side, baring his neck more to give Iwaizumi more space to work with.

Admittedly, Oikawa is a little lost. In his previous trysts with some of the girls in his year he took up on, he was always the one who led. It was his partners who followed the pace he set, never the other way around, so it goes without saying that this is definitely something new to him. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands now that his boyfriend was occupied, so he resorts to looping it around his neck to pull him closer.

Iwaizumi begins to mouth at his neck and Oikawa forces himself to bite down the noises that try to escape him; instead, he tries to focus on the heat of Iwaizumi’s lips in contrast to the biting cold.

But as he familiarizes himself with how he is pressed against Iwaizumi’s body, certain facts start to dawn on him: first, this is _Iwa-chan_ ; second, this is Iwa-chan he is _sitting on_ ; and third, this is Iwa-chan, the same Iwa-chan he accompanied on bug-hunting adventures in their backyard at age five and the same Iwa-chan who taught him how it feels to be invincible at age fifteen.

This is Iwa-chan, the boy who knows him better than anyone else.

“ _Hajime._ ”

Almost instantly, Iwaizumi stops.

“Is it okay to call you that?”

Oikawa knows the syllables may sound strange coming from him; he hasn’t called Iwaizumi anything but _Iwa-chan_ since they started middle school. Oikawa also knows that his request may have stunned Iwaizumi judging by how he shivered when he said his name, and he almost takes it back because of lack of response, but the hands on his waist grip him a little tighter before he could.

“Yeah.” Iwaizumi husks out, breathing noticeably ragged. “You can call me Hajime.”

( _Hajime_ , he used to whisper to himself before he goes to sleep at night. Used to test the syllables on his tongue to remember the weight. Used to utter it with reverence to appease his racing heart. _Ha-jime_. _Ha-ji-me. Ha-ji.)_

“Hajime,” he murmurs as he noses Iwaizumi’s jaw, hands tightly gripping the front of his sweater. He knows there is desperation evident in his voice now, but Oikawa could not be bothered to mask it. Not when the shaky exhale against him and the heavy hand on his waist both assure him that he is not the only one aching to take and _take_.

Iwaizumi leans down to nip at his exposed collarbone, prompting a stuttered gasp out of him in surprise. Oikawa’s eyes flutter closed on their own accord and he feels his lover’s lips curl into a smile at the action, but the sensation of Iwaizumi’s teeth grazing his skin is much too distracting for him to make a retort, much too intense for him to bear. It was terrifyingly addicting, and Oikawa could not fathom how he ever managed to hold himself back.

Oikawa brings his hands to the base of Iwaizumi’s skull only for them to inch upwards and pull at Iwaizumi’s hair when he feels mouth parting against his neck. At the back of his mind, Oikawa recalls a memory of him teasingly pulling Iwaizumi’s hair when they were both seven before smoothing the displaced strands down to appease the older boy. Oikawa had always made fun of Iwaizumi then; the spike of his hair looked ridiculous to him especially when paired with seven-year-old Iwaizumi’s chubby cheeks, but he made it a point to fix the tangled mess each time when his friend grumbled at him in annoyance. He’d card his fingers through the stubborn strands while pinching Iwaizumi’s cheeks, a toothy smile on his face both as an apology and as an assurance. _I’m sorry for ruining your hair, Hajime-chan! You still look cute though—just not as cute as me!_

(He always wanted to be touching Iwaizumi in some way—even when he was young. The reason why wouldn’t occur to him until a few years later.)

Iwaizumi continues to leave a trail of blooming bruises up the column of Oikawa’s neck before he pulls away to pant softly. Oikawa takes this chance to look at him, and only then does he notice that the green of Iwaizumi’s eyes has never looked darker.

Instinctively, Oikawa leans in to cut the distance between them only to stop right before their mouths touch.

“Hajime,” he then breathes against his boyfriend’s lips, anticipation thrumming against his skin as he speaks Iwaizumi’s name out loud for the third time that night. A laugh escapes Iwaizumi at this, the intimacy of Oikawa perched on his lap repeating his first name like a prayer finally catching up to him. In the grand scheme of things, whatever it is that they are currently doing is tame, but nothing could discount the fact that this moment is as gratifying as it is unbelievable. _And they haven’t even kissed_ yet.

”Are you really not going to say anything but my name?” Iwaizumi opts to say instead, an attempt to dispel the tension and distract himself from the nearly-nonexistent space between his lips and Oikawa’s.

Oikawa does not take the bait though. “I spent years settling for a silly nickname, Hajime,” he smiles, eyelashes batting playfully. “I think I’m allowed to make up for lost time.”

“Then it’s only fair for me to call you Tooru, right?”

Without thinking, Oikawa crashes their lips together, his patience finally reaching the end of its reserves. The suddenness of it makes it messy, all teeth and no grace, and he feels Iwaizumi smile against his mouth as he reciprocates with the same intensity. Then he pulls back—just by scant centimeters—and Oikawa only manages to inhale during that brief pause before Iwaizumi closes the distance. This time, the kiss is almost shy, timid in comparison to what transpired just moments ago; lips only pressed together as if they were trying to grow accustomed to the feel of their mouths. Oikawa allows himself to bask in this calm before he tilts his head to the right and parts his lips slowly to add a hint of tongue.

Iwaizumi is quick to follow. His mouth moves languidly against Oikawa and the hands previously on his waist bunch his hoodie upwards, fingers tracing the knobs of his spine. The touch startles Oikawa, and Iwaizumi takes advantage of the gasp that leaves him by moving his tongue to prod his.

It’s exploratory, that much can be said about the way they were kissing with just a smidge of reluctance, still in the process of identifying what feels good for the other. But Oikawa couldn’t complain. In all the times he’s fantasized about kissing Iwaizumi, he’s always thought their first would be awkward and uncoordinated despite their experience. It just made sense; their confession was the culmination of needless pining that lasted for almost a decade, so it wouldn’t be a surprise that it’d take time for them to get the hang of intimacy, would it?

Well, clearly that was not the case.

This was not Oikawa’s first kiss, and he is aware that it was not Iwaizumi’s either, but it’s the first kiss that mattered to him. He is also aware that it wouldn’t be presumptuous of him to say the same for Iwaizumi.

He tugs Iwaizumi’s lower lip gently by his teeth, hand cradling his jaw as he teasingly nips it. He feels Iwaizumi’s smile against him as he does so, and that is as much warning he gets before Iwaizumi pulls him impossibly closer to deepen the kiss. The mouth against him is firmer now, tongue more insistent, and the fingers on his back are now lightly scratching his sides, turning the warmth in his gut into dizzying heat.

The sounds they have been making were embarrassingly wet—the smacking of their lips loud in the room’s quietude—but Oikawa had no time to be concerned with that. Not when Iwaizumi was moaning softly into his mouth. Not when Oikawa was just as bad.

As things start to get progressively heated, Oikawa vaguely registers Iwaizumi’s hands pushing his hoodie higher, almost as if he wanted it off Oikawa. He would have let him. In any other instance, he would have, but the goosebumps that erupt on his skin are not the pleasant kind, and he has no choice but to pull the hoodie down.

He cuts the kiss short, and the dazed look on Iwaizumi’s face almost makes him want to mash their mouths together again, but he doesn’t. Instead, he laughs softly as he puts more distance between them.

“Sorry,” he says with a giggle, hands finding Iwaizumi’s to interlace their fingers. “You know I get cold easily.”

Eyes widening in understanding, Iwaizumi lets out a laugh of his own. As annoying as it is that his attempt to touch more skin is what ended their first-kiss-turned-full-blown-make-out-session, Iwaizumi is not disappointed in the slightest.

Oikawa doesn't get much of a warning before Iwaizumi pushes him onto the couch, sandwiching him between his body and the cushioned seats.

“Why,” he murmurs, punctuating the following words with a peck to Oikawa’s face, “are you so fucking _cute_?”

The gesture was so unexpectedly endearing that Oikawa could only smile and pull him in for another kiss. As they break apart, he briefly recalls how he pictured this exact moment in his earlier musings as he contemplated whether he should get a mint or not. A kiss is what he wanted, a kiss is what he got—and then some.

Funny, how things worked out in the end.

“Hey Hajime,”

Iwaizumi hums in reply, still beaming at him.

“Sleep with me tonight?”

It is too late when he realizes his mistake. The red that takes over Iwaizumi's face and the incredulous _'What?_ ’ that accompanies it only confirm that he sounded like he was propositioning his boyfriend just then.

“Not like that, you asshole!” He indignantly sputters out as he pushes Iwaizumi off him.

“I didn't even say anything!”

“You were thinking about it!” Oikawa counters, punching Iwaizumi’s side lightly. “You know that's not what I meant!”

 _Not yet anyway_ , Oikawa adds in his head. The thought only makes him blush harder.

Iwaizumi bursts into a fit of laughter at his outburst, and when he notices the pout on Oikawa’s face, he tries to wrap his arms around his struggling boyfriend in an attempt to placate him.

“Okay, whatever. I'm big spoon, though.”

“I’m only agreeing to this because it's cold tonight.”

Knowing a poorly-chosen excuse when he hears one, Iwaizumi snickers. “Sure, Oikawa."

“Tooru.” Oikawa immediately corrects him, cheeks burning _again_ at his own nerve.

“Hmm?”

"Call me Tooru from now on."

The arms hugging him from behind tighten, and Oikawa is thankful that Iwaizumi could not see how he is grinning from ear to ear.

“Sure, Tooru.”

(When he finds himself back on his _futon_ with Iwaizumi’s arm draped across his waist, the space just a little too cramped for two teenage athletes, there are three things occupying his mind: first, winters can be warm if you look for it in the right places; second, he has never felt more at peace until now; and third, he wouldn’t mind being with Iwaizumi Hajime for the rest of his life.)

**Author's Note:**

> catch me on [ twitter! ](twitter.com/lqiwaoi)


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